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I stop myself mid-spiral, scanning the room I find myself in. There must be something here that can help me. I look for something that could block the door, but all the furniture is too heavy. I spot a window and rush over to fling it open…then immediately curse again.
It’s no good. I’m fifty feet up over the moat and there’s not even a sill to step out onto.
A hacking noise comes from the other side of the door, and I imagine someone’s thought of fetching an axe. For a terrible instant I suddenly wonder if the drop from the window might be preferable to what awaits me. Would it really matter if I didn’t survive?
The thought is so dark it throws me clear of my panic. A breeze through the open window rustles the dark curtains, making them flare out like a cloak. A black cloak.
My brain is throwing up a thousand thoughts a minute, and it plants a fresh idea firmly in my mind: Blackcoat.
Maybe there’s someone, rather than something, that can help me. It’s insane. Usually I’d rather walk over hot coals than ask for help from the likes of Ruskin Blackcoat. But I’d also just considered jumping out the window rather than being dragged back to my room and a marriage to Albrecht. Blackcoat is dangerous, that’s clear, but the fae also have to abide by a certain set of rules. If I’m careful with what I offer, I can make this work. I feel in my pockets for the handful of gold I kept back. I’d planned to use it to fund an escape for Dad and me out of the king’s reach. But I can find some other way to provide for us—and put the gold to better use. If it takes every bit of it to bribe Blackcoat, it’ll still be worth it.
I’ve never met a fae who doesn’t covet shiny things, even Maidar. And I know they envy our gold for the way it lasts, unlike theirs. Is it enough to protect me from the treachery Ruskin’s famous for? I don’t know, but as the banging on the door intensifies, I decide I’m ready to find out.
I clear my throat, then start speaking aloud. My voice wavers a little in fear and I have to work to keep it steady.
“Blackcoat of raven, of rose, and of spring,
I have a deal that will make the dawn sing,
Be you about and ready to trade,
Hear my call, Blackcoat, and come to my aid.”
I repeat the rhyme once. Twice. My words rush together as the splintering noises from the door reach a crescendo, trying to finish before they reach me.
I think the temperature of the room drops a few degrees. A movement catches my eye, but it’s just the curtain rippling again. No one’s there.
Then a voice soft as velvet, dark as the night, speaks behind me.
“You called?”
Chapter 5
Iturn slowly, as if any sudden movements might provoke the predator I’ve invited into the room.
When I set eyes on him, I shiver in spite of myself. Even doing nothing more than standing there, the fae they call Ruskin Blackcoat emanates power. It is hard to describe, but magic seems to come off him in waves, brushing against my skin like a whisper. He is tall even for the fair folk, and I have to lift my head to see him fully. His face has the sculpted symmetry of the rich fae I see at the market, creatures with visages that almost look human, but with impossibly high cheekbones and jawlines sharp enough to cut. Yet there’s something more animal about him than the others. His eyes are yellow as a cat’s, the pupils a splinter of darkness under hooded lids. I think I can see the sharp tips of horns nestled in his thick black hair and when he smiles…
No one could interpret it as an expression of friendliness or welcome, not when it serves to reveal a row of glinting, pointed teeth.
The hairs on my arm stand to attention as I imagine those fangs sinking into my flesh. From the stories about him, I wouldn’t be surprised if they are how Ruskin Blackcoat dispatches those who displease him.
So, I need to make him an offer worth his while. And I need to do it fast. From somewhere I manage to summon up my voice, dragging it out of me.
“I would like to make a deal with you, my Lord.” I add the formal address for good measure, though he seems more monster than man.
He scoffs like something I’ve said annoys him, and I suck in a breath. Every word I utter could be my last.
“Why do humans have such a love for stating the obvious?” Somehow, he makes the observation sound like a death sentence and an invitation all at once—a slow, silky, threat. The shadowy draw of his voice is punctured by an almighty crack as a shard of the door flies across the room. He eyes it with a curious flash of his cat eyes.
“Well, I can see you’re in a predicament,” he says, then waves one hand—pale and elegant—towards the door. The wood instantly sprouts a dozen branches, each of them thick as a man’s arm. They burst from the door, then wrap around each other, twisting and growing across the frame to form a dense barrier. The rod of fear in me hardens, the casual magic he’s just worked is easy evidence of his strength.
“I need my freedom,” I say quickly, aware that whatever delaying spell he’s worked on the door will only last as long as his patience. “Liberty and safety from this place.”
His inhuman face is impassive now, only the twitch of an eyebrow registers he has any interest in my offer at all. “And in return?”
I plunge my hand into my pocket and pull out the handful of gold.
The moment I hold it out to him, his bright eyes dull, and he straightens the cuff on his long, black coat. It’s a strange material I don’t recognize, smooth and soft looking.
